One of the Germans had left his position, presumably to assist the defence of the building where Peters’ men were attacking.
Smith spotted his opportunity and shouted to Chard.
“Use your PIAT, take out these bastards!”
The building was now on fire at one end.
The MG34 continued firing towards Smith but with three groups of paratroopers putting down fire on the building, the tiny group of survivors would have no chance.
Chard, who until now had been laying down suppressing fire on the building, shouldered his PIAT, an unusual British anti-tank weapon that looked like a horizontal mortar.
The weapon launched a powerful explosive charge using a strong spring.
Though small and deadly the weapon was heavy and the impact of the spring gave painful bruises and in some cases had even broken bones.
Aiming at the window frame being used by the MG34 gunner, Chard pulled the trigger.
With a jarring thud the spring propelled the bomb through the air right at the target.
As soon as it made impact the fuse was trigged, the entire frame vanished in flame and smoke.
Peters and his men rushed the building from their side, quickly followed by Smith and his surviving men.
Firing had stopped and looking around it was clear that the PIAT had finished the job.
Back at the glider, Harvey was still with the pinned Johnson.
He had done his best to dress the wound but could still not remove him from the wreckage.
Even if he could, the piece of wood stuck in his body would have to stay for now.
If he removed it the obstruction would free the blood flow and Johnson would die soon afterwards.
With the battle over for now the glider was no longer taking fire.
Amazingly, none of the bullets had struck the two men but the glider and taken hundreds of rounds and was shredded from nose to tail.
Chard appeared at the doorway of the glider, he looked a little confused as there were the bodies of two German soldiers at the doorway.
He looked to the officer.
“Sir, Sergeant Smith reports we have taken the German positions and need to move on as soon as possible.
We have a few wounded men at the house.”
Lieutenant Harvey looked unimpressed; he looked back at the pinned body, thinking quickly.
“Okay, get me two more men and your tools, I’ll come with you.”
“Sir?” he asked.
“Don’t think, fool,” responded the Lieutenant in an agitated manner, “just get the men and fast!”
He left the glider and Harvey followed.
As they walked Chard asked the Lieutenant, “What happened with those men?” he pointed to the bodies of the Germans.
Harvey responded dryly, “They tried to interrupt me.”
Chard grinned to himself; perhaps this officer wasn’t as bad as he had first thought.
The Lieutenant stopped for a moment.
“Chard, can you hear that?”
Harvey asked.
He stopped, scanning the horizon.
“No, Sir,” he answered, then added, “wait…that sounds like…”
“Vehicles,” completed Harvey.
“Quick, to the house, we’ll come back for Johnson.”
The two men rushed across the open ground, both keeping low to avoid being picked out by whoever was approaching.
At the house Sergeant Smith surveyed the scene of the recent firefight.
Corporal Humphreys ran up to him, along with Trent and Peters.
They looked grim, the fight had been unexpected and a very bloody start to what was sure to be a long and bitter campaign in France.
“What is the butcher’s bill then?
I know I lost two from the MG34,” Smith asked.
“Well, we lost two crossing the field,” Humphreys answered.
“Shit!” swore Smith.
Harvey reached the group, he moved straight for Smith.
“Are we okay?” he asked.
“No, Sir.
By my counting then we’ve lost four men in this scrap plus the losses in the crash.
What a fucking arse-up.
How is Johnson?”
“Johnson is stable for now, right now though, we’ve got other problems to worry about.”
Chard added, “I’ve checked the perimeter, we definitely have a number of vehicles approaching, about a mile away,” he pointed off into the distance.
“Any idea what we’re facing?” Sergeant Smith asked.
“I think at least one is an armoured car, the rest look like trucks, it’s not easy to tell from here.
They definitely aren’t ours though,” responded Chard.
“Lieutenant, I recommend we get Johnson and all the weapons and ammunition we can carry, then get to the rendezvous,” suggested Smith.
“Also, we can leave a couple of surprises for the Jerries, it might buy us a little more time.”
“You don’t think we can hold them off?”
Harvey asked, looking sceptical at their retreat after having just won this battle.
“No chance, Sir.
We’re already running low on ammunition and if Chard is right we could be facing fifty plus infantry and armour.
Right now we need to get back on mission,” Smith replied.
“Yes…you’re right,” agreed Harvey.
Though he obviously lacked the combat experience of Smith, he certainly seemed to know when to take advice.
Smith considered what he had seen so far, the officer was as bad as his instincts had first told him.
The night was filled by the most appalling screech, a sound none of them had heard before, not even in their worst nightmares.
The sound was closely followed by gunfire from the direction of the approaching column.
The British soldiers hit the ground automatically, their training and experience kicking in.
As the men huddled down as low as they could, nothing happened.
Though the battle continued no fire came down upon their positions.
Smith moved up to the cover of the sandbags and surveyed the horizon.
He signalled to the others to keep their heads down.
He could just make out the rough silhouette of the crashed glider along the tree line, about the same distance again a vehicle was burning.
“Are those the vehicles you spotted?” he asked Chard.
“Yes, they’ve stopped though,” he replied.
From their position they could now make out the column, especially as the burning trucks lit up the area around it.
There was obviously some kind of battle going on, though who was involved they didn’t know.
Peters used his binoculars to get a better view.
“I can see one truck on fire and another two, no…three more trucks behind it.
Chard is right, there’s an armoured car at the front and another vehicle that I can’t make out at the rear,” said Peters.
“What about infantry?” asked Harvey.
“How many men are we talking about?”
“I can’t tell, Sir.
I can see a lot of people and a lot of shooting,” said Peters.
Sergeant Smith scratched his chin, “Maybe they were ambushed by another one of our units, maybe even the resistance?
Either way, they’re too busy to worry about us now.”
More explosions lit up the sky, it looked as though the German soldiers were in a maelstrom of fire as tracer and grenades that gave the British soldiers glimpses of the distant battle.
“Chard!” called Smith.
“Take Trent and Harris and get a closer look.
Don’t hang around, we’ll be leaving soon.”
Chard moved off with the other two in the direction of the battle.
Smith called out to the rest, “Grab what you can, we’re leaving in five minutes.”
* * *
The group of three men had moved as close to the German vehicles as they dared.
Though it was now quiet they were all acutely aware that they were potentially massively outnumbered and had no idea what was out there.
About two hundred yards behind was the small wooded area, and immediately behind that was the crashed glider.
Even as they lay prone watching the German column, the remaining British soldiers would be removing everything they could use from the glider as well as salvaging German weapons and equipment from the battle.
“Look at this,” called Trent.
From his vantage point he had an excellent view of the lane and could see each of the vehicles.
“What?” replied a nervous sounding Harris.
Trent pointed out towards the vehicles, describing what he saw.
“It looks like something spooked the column, see, look at the closest truck.”
Chard lifted himself up, confirming Trent’s observations.
“Yeah, I can see it.
The first truck has dropped into the ditch, the rest stopped behind it and the armoured car…”
“Yes?” asked Harris.
Chard continued, “the armoured car is in the middle of the field off to the east.”
“I don’t understand, I can see why the column stopped, but why is the car so far away?” said a confused Harris.
“Maybe they were chasing somebody,” added Trent, “or trying to get away from somebody?”
“Maybe, but if they were being attacked, why is there no fire or smoke?
Did they just abandon the car?”
Chard spoke to Trent.
“Go back to the glider and tell the Sarge what we’ve seen and then get back here right away.
We need you to watch our backs, but he needs to know what we’re doing.”
He nodded in agreement.
Chard continued surveying the area; he was still mystified by the situation with the German vehicles.
“Come on, let’s take a closer look, we need to know what’s out there.”
Chard and Harris stepped out into the lane and made their way slowly towards the vehicles.
In a matter of seconds they reached the first trucks.
What surprised them more than the missing men were the scores of dead Germans littering the lane.
From their hiding place they couldn’t see low enough to spot these bodies.
“Jesus Christ!” swore Harris.
“What the fuck happened here?”
“I don’t know,” answered Chard, “look at this one.”
Harris crept over to Chard, looking down at the bodies.
The one Chard was pointing at looked strange.
Harris couldn’t quite work out what he was being shown.
Chard, with his hand on the man’s arm lifted it up, the limb was clearly not attached to the body.
The black blood of the German soldier dripped out onto the road.
Even worse though was what looked like rips and tears, almost as if an animal had been eating chunks of their flesh.
* * *
Trent moved as quickly as he could across the long grass to reach the glider and the group of paratroopers.
Smith met him as he arrived, waiting for information, “Well, what’s going on?”
He explained the situation.
Smith did not look impressed.
“Give me that,” said Smith as he took the binoculars and checked for himself.
The trucks and armoured car were still in position and one was burning away, filling the sky with black smoke.
As for people, there was no sign of either people running or the firefight.
He lowered them and spoke to the Lieutenant.
“I don’t like it, Sir.
They may have gone to ground and that means the whole area from here to the bridge could be occupied by them.”
Harvey thought briefly, “I don’t see we have much of a choice, I suggest we get Johnson and get moving.
If we are smart I’m sure we can get through without trouble.”
“Sir, I suggest we wait for Chard to get back with more intel, we don’t want to march off until we have something concrete,” Smith replied.
Harvey considered his suggestion, “Ok.
Right, what is our status?”
Smith checked his notebook, examining the scrawled notes he’d kept after the battle.
“We are left with thirteen plus you and me, Sir.
Casualties are twelve dead plus Johnson still in the glider.”
“Bloody hell!” answered the Lieutenant. “How about injured?
Can they all move?”
“Yes, Sir.
Johnson is the only seriously wounded, once we have him on the stretcher we can get moving,” offered Smith.
The men around Smith and the Lieutenant had by now assembled as much equipment as they could realistically carry, including several German submachine guns and a few trophy pistols.
One of the paratroopers popped his head out of the glider, “Sir, where is Johnson?” he asked.
“In the bloody glider,” answered an exasperated Harvey.
“Nobody in here, Sir,” the soldier repeated.
Smith was already at the door and climbed back inside the wreckage, Harvey was right behind him.
Looking through the wreckage there was no sign of Johnson, or the dead sappers.
Smith moved up to the cockpit.
He waited there for a moment before turning back to Harvey.
“They’ve all gone, nothing but blood.”
“Who?
Why?” asked Harvey, now totally dumbfounded.
Chard and Harris appeared through the tree line, having now completed their recce of the German convoy.
Harvey moved forwards, looking for answers. “What did you find, Corporal?”